


For those who have passed

by Futabae69



Category: Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fate/stay night - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fate/ Fusion, Gilgamesh (Fate) Being an Asshole, Holy Grail War (Fate), M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23586457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Futabae69/pseuds/Futabae69
Summary: “I only wanted to talk to her, only once...” he trailed off, nails scraping the wood. All of the blood and death and fire. It had been for nothing because of one simple idiot with an unfulfilled wish.Alternative Universe Holy Grail War with original masters and original servants, featuring Gilgamesh and Altria Pendragon.
Relationships: Gilgamesh | Archer/Original Character(s)
Kudos: 5





	For those who have passed

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Magician's Wish for the Holy Grail](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777327) by [KrazynKuukii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KrazynKuukii/pseuds/KrazynKuukii). 



**Chapter 1: Guardian of the Holy Light**

Jano worked day and night to preserve the legends and texts that had once belonged to Tsukuyomi’s temple. Lives were too precious to put a monetary number onto in terms of loss and the void left inside his heart was greater than the one left in history over the destruction of original manuscripts. So whatever he could remember, he tried to recreate in favor of those who’d passed. Their stories and words should be allowed to live on forever by being passed down onto reading material. That said, Jano’s reproductions amounted to only a few parchments, neatly folded onto scrolls that were put away in a clean and dry corner of the rundown shrine until he could repair a more suitable room for them to be in. 

With the sleeves of his kimono tightly bound in a Tasuki knot as to not intervene with the messy task, the former priest was applying a coat of glue onto colorful rice paper cutouts and placing them over the holes on the shoji screen doors. The tears and perforations had made it difficult to sleep at night because of the cold wind slipping into the house. He’d had to put the rest of the reparations on hold until this issue was fixed and Jano could clearly notice a pattern. The More he tried to go on with his work, the more problems were discovered that derailed his main activity. Working solo was also pretty extenuating and extremely slow. He’d managed to finish only 2 screens since that morning.

A weak, metallic pang rung out throughout the shrine. Jano barely raised his head until he had finished gluing the figure in his hands. Once the second ring was over, the short haired boy was still getting up to walk towards the source. He knew that no matter how fast he ran, he would never catch the visitor who came by everyday. With aching thighs, he made his way to the front of the temple where a small bronze bell was perched atop a wooden pole, a colorful threaded knot tied on the clapper so the person below could easily ring it and say their prayers. Of course, only after depositing a donation inside the rickety box.

Jano never gave it much priority to replace the holey wooden receptacle since he never expected any donations or devouts. There wasn’t much risk of anything getting stolen anyway, even if someone did leave an offering. The boy gently opened the lid and looked at the item nestled inside: a sizable piece of a milk colored mineral that stained his hands with soft white powder when he picked it up. He wasn’t sure he could identify it as he didn’t have much knowledge on rocks. Still, he couldn’t let the donation go to waste so he took it home, where he would try to find a use for it later.

He placed it on top of a few old newspaper pages, along with the rest of the bizarre donations he’d been getting everyday. The pile was getting quite big and Jano still couldn't make sense of the assortment of gifts that had been left on the collection box: a square piece of sand colored rock with lineal indentures, a heavily ornamented gold goblet filled with wine and a few gemstones that he did not feel the need to spend just yet. Putting both palms together, he thanked the people for bringing their offerings to the goddess even though he didn’t know what to make of them.

Just as he was returning to his work, he heard it again. The metal clang of the bell, ringing once, twice, thrice… Saying ‘I’m here! I’m right here!’ Jano dropped his glue stained brush on the tatami and ran back to the front, expecting to see someone calling for help. Instead, all he found was complete silence and the gentle wavering of the threaded rope swaying in the breeze. His shoulders dropped, disappointed, nervous. With doubting hands, he searched the wooden box and pulled out a piece of parchment, one that had been mildly burnt.

As his mismatched eyes danced through the letters, his breath became caught in his throat. Jano looked to his right and then to his left, as if he were reading something embarrassing and wished to make sure nobody was looking at him do it. Suddenly he understood why he’d been gifted all those strange items, although he was still very confused as to whom would be the mysterious patron and for what purpose had they offered all this to him.

Suddenly, he became incredibly busy. Not with repairing the shoji nor cleaning glue off the floor. He tore off the straw tatami mats, the only thing that looked more or less in decent condition in the whole shrine, to get to the wooden surface underneath and cleaned it vigorously until the polished material could be clearly seen. His pale hands picked up the white powdery stone and smashed it against the ground so it broke into tinier oblong pieces that he rubbed on the wooden canvas until they left their ghostly mark. Dots, lines, planes taking form on the dark oak. Jano decorated his nonsensical drawing with the random items, careful to put them in specific places, facing specific directions.

When he was over, he fell onto his knees right over the edge of his monstrous sign, chest heaving with exhaustion. His lungs were on fire. He wasn’t used to working so fast or intensely, but he was pressed for time. Not that he could ever make sense of the hour without a working clock. Nightfall was creeping upon his dirty and sweaty form and the moon was lighting the way forward. So he didn't hesitate when he got up to his feet and fished for the scroll to read the words one more time. 

He touched his eye, the one that was his own and shook his head before extending his palms towards the calcite circle. The tension from his iris began pulsing in his entire body, bolstering his cry to the heavens. As he spoke, the circle began emanating sparks, tinted blue like the eye that was his own, the one he’d been gifted, the one calling home. If he could only speak to her, just once.

**"For this day and all that have come yesterday and all that will be tomorrow I seek guidance from the Guardian of the holy light who pierces the night sky. Protector of the weak and uniter of the races. I call upon you, ruler of the stars, to show my path.**

**I shall give you form with my life so you may walk the earth again.**

**I summon you!”**

The electricity turned red, like the blood he’d seen with his other eye and he fell onto his knees, grasping it with pain. The room filled with smoke as the offerings vanished. But even if he became blind, he could hear it, footsteps. “Tsukuyomi! Lady Tsukuyomi!” he called out to her, a smile painting his lips while he tried to blink away the pain on his eye. However, what his gaze settled on was not the image he was hoping to see. His lips fell into a disappointed frown, a worried look.

“That is not my name, mongrel.” The apparition looking down on him with disgust was that of a warrior with golden hair and blood red eyes, clad in shining armor. Jano was absolutely appalled. More so because he knew the face of Lord Amatsumikaboshi and he was positive this was not it. So what in the world had he summoned onto this earth? “You will address me only as ‘King of Heroes'.”

“Lord Susano’o? Lord Izanagi?!” he insisted, not wanting to give up and admit defeat, admit that he’d made a mistake that couldn’t be fixed out of a selfish desire. How could he’d been so stupid as to trust those gifts at face value, like he’d done with everything else he’d been given in his life. Before the fall of the temple, he’d never had any reason to doubt the kindness of other people. He should have learned just how bleak the world actually was. And yet he kept falling for it.

“Keep addressing me incorrectly and I will remove your tongue.” the servant warned and Jano closed his mouth instantly but still looked at the man horrified. What if this person was the same as Lord Amatsumikaboshi? What if they wished to purge all the humans from the world? “It seems I was summoned as an Archer. Speak your purpose...”

“I only wanted… To see her...” he mouthed, deflating, eyes downcast on the floor while on his hands and knees. Janoe never much cared for things like dignity even though he still possessed the raw instincts of pride. Still, for the king it was only par for the course for a third rate mage to kneel in front of their monarch. “I only wanted to talk to her, only once...” he trailed off, nails scraping the wood. All of the blood and death and fire. It had been for nothing because of one simple idiot with an unfulfilled wish. “Tsukuyomi...”

“I shall take my leave.” the king said, brushing away the neediness of the crying virgin and stepping off the circle, kicking chalk dust in the maiden’s direction. Jano did his best to gather his emotions and push them aside for the moment. If this person was dangerous, he couldn’t afford to make him angry so soon. This was his mistake and he had to take responsibility for it. For now, it was best to stay quiet and obedient. The black haired boy was used to it anyway so it shouldn't prove much of a hassle.


End file.
